Rosalie Hale
by haleywa
Summary: Yes, I know there are lots of stories like this, but you should read mine. :D
1. Chapter 1

Rosalie Hale. It was a name everyone knew in Rochester, and I absolutely adored that. The world was much simpler in nineteen thirty-three, especially for me. My parents were thoroughly middle class, and my father had a stable job at the bank. He didn't realize just how lucky he was, though.

Everything was taken for granted in my home; the Great Depression was considered nothing more than a troublesome rumor. The lucky father of mine led me to believe the poor, unlucky people that I encountered everyday had brought their troubles on themselves. However, I never quite understood what he meant.

My mother took care of my two brothers and me, though I was obviously her favorite – her first priority. My father bought me lovely dresses every chance he got. My parents acted as if my beauty was a gift to them; they saw so much potential that I had never seen. Even so, they always seemed to want more. Though, I was content with my life.

Everyday was the same at the time, I would do whatever I pleased, and my mother would care for my brothers. I usually shopping with a few good friends, although they didn't do near as much shopping as I did. Not all people could be as lucky as I to have a father in such a position.

From the time I was twelve all eyes were on me everywhere I went, but I didn't mind, not at all. I was considered the most beautiful thing Rochester had ever seen. Sometimes I doubted this, though.

The Cullen's were gorgeous. Dr. Carlisle Cullen, his wife Esme, and her brother Edward didn't mingle in society like my family did. I didn't think I had much to worry about because I knew everyone stared at me rather than them. They were far too eerie looking to stare at for any extended amount of time. Their returning gaze made you turn shudder and left no desire to continue staring. Their pale alabaster skin seemed too ghostly to be beautiful, but somehow it was. No one paid near as much attention to them as they did to me.

My girlfriends sighed with envy when they touched my golden hair that fell gently down my back in soft curls. Vera was always different, though. She didn't seem to be nearly as envious as some of my other friends. She seemed to be completely content with her life; she had no need to want mine.

I enjoyed talking to her more than my other friends. She seemed to listen to me rather than just look at me most of the time. They acted as though my life was perfect, even though it was for the most part.

She treated me like a normal person – one with problems – good days and bad days. I liked that about her. She always knew the right thing to say. Her huge dark brown eyes glistened with interest at my words instead of my face -- which seemed to be the main point on interest for most people -- and I knew my pale blue eyes glistened back at her words as well. I enjoyed hearing about her life. I usually just saw things like that from the outside. I found it quite interesting to hear what it's like from someone who experienced it rather than my father who just jumped to conclusions. She taught me that the poor were poor not because of themselves, just because they weren't as lucky as my family.

I then realized how lucky I was to have the family that I had. Vera's parents weren't any where near as protective over her as mine were of me. She seemed to be able to take good enough care of her self and her siblings; it didn't really seem necessary.

Vera married young compared to my other friends. She was only seventeen, but she was pleased. Her husband was someone my parents would never allow me to marry – a carpenter. They would insist on someone with a much richer father. I would probably end up married to a son of one of my father's many rich friends. However, Vera's parents were seemed extremely content with whatever made her happy, and when she was with her husband, she was the happiest I had everseen her.

A year later came Henry; he was beautiful. He had dimples and curly hair that appeared to be darker than Vera's. He seemed almost too delicate to touch, too perfect for words. It was the first time I had ever been truly jealous of anyone else in my entire life. The way Vera looked at him nearly brought tears to my eyes. I yearned for my own little baby and my own husband who would kiss me when he got home from work – just like Vera.


	2. Chapter 2

There was one 'royal' family in Rochester – the Kings, ironically enough. The bank my father worked at was owned by the man of the family, Royce King. Along with that, he also owned every other profitable business in town. That's how Royce King the Second happened upon me. I had seen him around town before at his father's other establishments. He planned on taking over at the bank and began to oversee the different positions. Conveniently enough, two days later, my mother forgot to send my father's lunch to work with him. Wearing my new white organza and rolling my hair up seemed like a silly thing to do just to run over to the bank, but my mother insisted. I walked the way there with my father's lunch in hand, smiling at everyone as I passed by and waving at the people I knew as I do everywhere I go.

Iwas so used to people's gazes drifting in my direction, I hardly noticed Royce in particurlar, but I saw the sparkle in his eye and the smile on his face as he did so.

That night the first of the roses came. I was greeted by a beautiful bouquet of roses each night of our courtship. My mother brought them to me with a huge grin on her face. My room was constantly overflowing. At one point, I started to smell like roses at all times.

Royce was beautiful, with his light blonde hair – blonder than mine – and lovely pale blue eyes. He often compared my eyes to violets, which soon appeared alongside the roses, the night after he mentioned it.

To put it mildly, my parents approved. Royce was the son-in-law of their dreams. They couldn't think of anyone more perfect for their prized daughter. He treated me like the princess they knew I was. He was my prince. With him, came everything I'd ever wanted, but still no more than I had ever expected. I'd known him less than two months and before I knew it we were engaged.

I was only eighteen, and he was nineteen. No one seemed to care our ages. They thought we were in love. I thought so, too. He constantly wanted to be around me no matter who else was there. We spent most of our time together arm in arm. Even so, we spent very little time alone with each other. He told me he had many responsibilities at work, and, of course, if we did happen to be together, he liked people to see me on his arm. Of course, I enjoyed that, too. I loved the parties, dancing, and dresses. We went to parties often more than twice a week. He bought me a gorgeous new dress of my choice for each one. When you were a King, all your dreams came true – you were treated like royalty. Everyone offered you what you wanted when you wanted it without a word of objection. Everything was falling into place.

The engagement didn't last long at all. I couldn't wait for the wedding. It was supposed to be the most lavish wedding to ever have taken place in Rochester, and it was being planned just for the two of us. It would take place in the King's lawn. It was surprisingly big enough to hold all our guests. Friends and family were coming from as far as Georgia just for our wedding. I was getting the most beautiful dress from the most expensive dress shop in town, which Royce's father just so happened to own. Everything I'd ever wanted was appearing before my very eyes. I was ecstatic. I no longer felt the jealously towards Vera that I had before. It wasn't difficult to picture several fair-haired, blue-eyed children on the huge lawns of the King's estate, most likely alongside her young Henry, as well. I didn't think it would be long at all until that fantasy would come true, or so I'd thought.

I should have expected something disastrous to happen. A fairytale ending would have been much to perfect – even for me.


End file.
